Growing up in Alaska and the Pacific Northwest on mountain homesteads and remote islands I have spent a lifetime in the forests and along the shores. Since childhood, summer days have been spent eating my fill of juicy ripe berries and chasing the minus tides to dig giant Geoduck clams. In Alaska we say, "when the tide is out, the table is set", a saying that celebrates the abundance of resources our natural environment has provided to sustain us since time immemorial.
As an artist and designer with a passion for traditional knowledge and practices, my visits to natural spaces draws me towards wild herbs, medicinal plants, weaving materials, and natural dyes. The child in me still loves to eat my fill of berries on these adventures; while, as a mother of indigenous children, I treasure the opportunity to share this knowledge with the next generation.
This time of year the forest and meadow seem to offer something new with every walk. The first salmonberries and thimbleberries have already ripened, while yarrow, foxglove, daisies, and fireweed brighten trails and roadside edges. I often find myself slowing down to study the shape of a seed head or the color of a flower just as much as I do to gather a basket of berries. Even when a plant never makes its way into the studio, its textures, colors, and forms often find their way into a future piece of jewelry or inspire a new copper pattern waiting to be explored.
Over the coming weeks I'll be keeping a close eye on the changing season. As the fireweed reaches full bloom, I hope to gather blossoms for one of my favorite summer traditions: making batches of sweet fireweed jelly to enjoy long after the flowers have faded. I'll also be collecting tansy flowers to experiment with natural yellow dyes for handmade papers and fiber projects, while continuing to watch for weaving materials, interesting seed pods, and the first signs that late-summer plants are preparing for autumn.
Every season offers only a brief window to gather these materials, and learning to notice those rhythms has become one of my favorite ways to stay connected to both the landscape and the ancestors who were sustained by this landscape for generations before us.
